Chapter 10
Sebastian
I’d made it through a grand total of two meals where Persy let me feed her and pretend she wasn’t dying to ask me personal questions.
She was smart, the way she did it. If I was being completely honest, I was a little scared of her.
If I ever told her why, she’d balk at the idea. A pretty blush would mar her cheeks as she rushed through an explanation on how she would never intentionally manipulate someone.
That didn’t detract from the fact that she had a way of making people open up that could easily be dangerous in the wrong hands or with the wrong intention.
In the span of a few hours, simply sitting with her and talking while the sun set, she’d not only managed to pry personal information out of me, but also made me ask her questions about herself.
The ease with which we fell into conversation was terrifying, and a testament to her skills with people. There was something about the way she engaged with people that made me think she didn’t quite realize how skilled she was.
Like she was still wrestling with a small thread of doubt, but forced it away so that she could help others.
Whether or not she realized how unique her open, honest observation was, she was incredibly talented. That type of raw skill was like catnip to those who wanted something from you.
They took one look at someone who had the capacity to charm others with their skill and genuine love for what they did and couldn’t help but try to manipulate them.
There was absolutely no connection between my own personal history with that fact and the growing, volatile protectiveness I was feeling towards her.
I was used to the emotion, following years of feeling highly protective over my art or Apollo’s work, enough that it would be intentionally ignorant to act like the desire to make sure no one manipulated Persy was similar.
She wasn’t naive, not in the slightest. She’d made that clear.
But that didn’t mean people wouldn’t try, and hurt her in the process.
She had been nothing but kind to me. The least I could do was … return some of that kindness.
Though the thought of being intentionally nice made me a little queasy, I could start by making meals that I’d already be eating myself and make sure Persy was well-fed.
Especially since she tended to move through life like a beautiful little tornado.
“Right,” she said, clapping her hands and jolting me out of my thoughts. When I turned away from the sink, I found her lips turned down.
“I thought I told you I’d do the dishes,” she said, frowning at me while I wiped my hands clean.
“You never specified when,” I returned coolly. “I took it upon myself to clean up while you were changing.” And thank the Fates for that. Persy tended to walk out to the kitchen still in those silk pajamas she favored and that made the task of remembering what I’d been cooking for breakfast rather difficult.
I had no right to be looking at her like that.
I was invading her space enough by living in her damn house. I didn’t need to be slobbering all over her like a dog, let alone the fact that she was in charge of my return as Apollo and the little sister of a former friend and the god I tried to overthrow.
I’d simply have to get used to seeing her gorgeous, long legs assaulting me every morning.
Persy walked up to the sink, peering in and finding glistening, clean porcelain. Her frown deepened, her eyebrows pulling together in a way that could only be described as adorable.
I knocked that thought as far away as I could. “Just say thank you and tell me what you were going to say.” I leaned down and trying to pull her attention away from the sink.
Persy blinked up at me, her eyelashes fluttering as she tried to recall what she’d been about to tell me. I gave her the space to remember, happy to sit and wait.
After a moment, her full lips opened. “I am going to introduce you to your doctor today.”
There was no way I was keeping a scowl off my face.
Persy smiled in the face of it, like my reaction had amused her.
Well. That was a new feeling in my chest. Something close to … pride.
“I think you’ll like her,” Persy said, that smile still bright on her face.
A small scoff sounded from the back of my throat. “You sure this isn’t part of your plan to help me reconnect with my power?” I quipped. “Get used to telling the truth again or something?”
“Well, I certainly hope you tell the truth in those sessions,” Persy responded, her voice light with a laugh. “But no, I think your command over truth is something you should implement in your life, generally.”
Persy was so honest, I wasn’t convinced she wasn’t the test for truth herself.
I breathed in, remembering the promise I’d made to myself to be marginally more agreeable. “Are you going to be there?” I gritted out.
Persy sucked in a breath. “Oh, goodness, no.” She looked so offended by the prospect, that I had half the mind to apologize to her for bringing it up in the first place. “That’s entirely private.”
There was still a touch of anguish in her eyes, despite my affirmative grunt. Enough that I said, “Alright. When do we head out?” with as pleasant a tone as I could manage.
Persy’s shoulders relaxed, settling back on her feet. My own chest released an inch.
Her eyes darted down to my sleeves, not only wet from the dishes but also covered in a great deal of paint. While I was in the studio this morning, letting her have the house to herself, I’d made substantial progress on the landscape I’d started yesterday.
Enough that I’d walked back into the house, a melodic hum vibrating in my throat. My command over music only tended to come out when I was either so angry I needed some form of release or when I was calm and relieved, enough that my creativity had the freedom to start spinning.
Unfortunately, only someone truly ignorant would try to convince themselves that the slow pace of my heart and the easy set of my shoulders was anything other than relief.
Eventually, Persy would figure out that her gift had worked. It made me feel marginally more human, which was not a feeling I’d accepted in a long, long time.
“Do you need to change?” Persy asked, her voice sweet and soft as she stared down at my forearms. A selfish part of me hoped it had something to do with the fact that the shirt I had on happened to highlight my forearms well.
I cleared my throat, preparing myself for what I was about to say. “I do. Thank you.”
Fucking hell, those words sounded forced. I guessed I would just have to get used to it if Persy insisted on being this upsettingly considerate.
It made me want to … return the favor. Or something.
Suddenly needing to get some breathing room from Persy and the way her sweet, soft perfume found its way up my nose and under my skin, I pushed back from the sink. The last thing I caught before turning around was her curling her lips over a grin, like she was physically restraining the urge to comment on the fact I’d said thank you.
My shirt felt itchy and oppressive, the wet fabric making me want to crawl out of my skin. Right as I rounded the corner to the bedrooms, I reached over my shoulder and grabbed my shirt at the back of the neck, ripping it off in one pull.
The shirt must have brushed past my ears wrong or something because something disturbingly close to a choke followed me into the room Persy had given me.
Even with my stuff moved in and Persy’s obvious talent with decorating, it didn’t feel like mine.
A moment later, I’d thrown on a fresh, black long sleeve and made my way back out. Persy was already outside, and from what I could see she was talking to herself.
When I pushed her door open, I caught the last bit of what she was saying to herself.
Unless her brother had damaged my hearing when he’d shoved a lightning bolt in my chest, I”d heard her say to stay focused.
Oh, I was a fucking asshole.
Because the small chance she had been talking about me throwing her off balance made me want to smile.
“After you,” I said, leading her forward with my hand hovering over her back. Even though I wasn’t touching her, it was as if I could feel her anyway.
There was a heavy weight on the back of my palm, like some phantom hand was pushing mine closer to her. I braced my arm, resisting the urge to settle my hand on her lower back.
There was no chance in hell I was touching her.
I already felt on the verge of insanity, and I had a sneaking suspicion the feel of her skin under my palm would push me over the edge.
“It’s just a short walk,” Persy said, and I got the sense she felt like she needed to fill the silence.
There was nothing worse than trying to talk to someone who gave you nothing to work with, which was the only reason I decided to help her out. “What will you do while I’m locked away with the doctor?”
Persy’s steps hesitated, almost knocking her back into my hand. She collected herself before she could go barreling into me, her graceful demeanor saving us both from that fate.
“A few residents are leaving today,” she said after a moment. “I’ll see them off then…”
Just as she was going to explain, we stepped foot onto the outer edge of Prometheus’s main center. It seemed that the second we crossed the border, everyone felt that it gave them permission to completely mob Persy.
Realistically, it was rather polite.
“Persy,” the first person interrupted. “You’re helping say goodbye to the residents today, right?”
Where my instinct was to return a sarcastic quip, Persy just smiled and calmly said, “Yes, I’ll be there in a few moments.”
With a quick glance at me that bordered on terrified, they ran away with their answer satisfied.
It took us two turns of a hallway to get to the doctor, and every moment of that was commanded by other people coming up to Persy and asking her questions or confirming that she’d be somewhere.
Every person who interrupted the conversation I was trying to start with her made me significantly more irritated. I also got personal insight on what Persy meant about taking on too much responsibility.
It was clear she tried her best to participate in every thing happening under Prometheus’s roof, even those that very well could have been handled by one of the staff.
Persy handled every moment with grace, even though her back was growing straighter and straighter with each person that approached with a question or a request.
“Alright,” Persy said, coming to a plain, wood door that held at least an hour of torture inside. “She knows to expect you, so I won’t come in.”
I was far more interested in hearing Persy finish whatever it was she had been saying when we were interrupted. “You never finished telling me what you were doing with the rest of your day.”
Persy eyebrows lifted ever so slightly in the center before she steadied them to try to hide her shock. She was shocked that I was interested in something she was doing.
It felt like a boulder landed on my chest as she answered, “Paperwork and whatever comes up throughout the day, which I’m sure will happen.”
Though she was smiling and said it with a joking tone, I didn’t really find the image of her being pulled in a million different directions all that funny. I had no idea what I was going to say, but opened my mouth anyway.
Just then, the door opened, revealing an older woman, likely around sixty or seventy. She stood several inches shorter than Persy and looked like a woman who would invite you over for tea then use that unassuming hook to interrogate you for two hours before finally pushing you out the door with a fresh muffin in hand and no idea what just happened. She adjusted her thick-framed glasses before saying, “Persy, darling. Good to see you.”
Persy flashed her a genuine smile, her shoulders relaxing down an inch. “Hello, Calpurnia. How are you?”
Calpurnia completely disregarded her question. “I’m more interested to know how you’ve been doing implementing what we’ve talked about.”
I could begrudgingly respect how she cut right to the core of things. Especially since the blush on Persy’s cheeks told me everything I needed to know.
Persy shot me a quick look before returning her attention to Calpurnia. She sighed lightly, a sound that marginally released the tension in my chest. “I’m doing better. We can talk more tomorrow, but in the meantime, this is Sebastian.”
Calpurnia looked up at me, taking her sweet time assessing me with her calculated gaze. “Sebastian, is it?”
I couldn’t tell whether she was asking me for confirmation or pointing out that Persy had used my first name rather than Lord Apollo. Or maybe both. She seemed rather crafty that way.
Regardless, I stuck out my hand. “Lovely to meet you, Calpurnia.”
She regarded my hand like it was a foreign object and paused for several moments before saying, “I appreciate your attempt to make that genuine.”
The part of my power that valued the truth had to respect her honesty. The greater part of me, the one that preferred to use creative omissions and subtle lies, knew that she was going to put me through the ringer in these sessions.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Persy said, shooting me a barely concealed amused look.
Oh, she was enjoying this, wasn’t she?
“See you soon, love,” I called after her, just to see her shoulders pinch together. She turned over her shoulder, her white-blonde hair swishing around her waist, and gave me a small, close-lipped smile.
A secret, personal smile—some might say. Someone who was looking for any excuses to believe that Persy treated them differently than others.
When Persy turned the corner, I realized I’d been tracking her all the way down the hallway. I didn’t even try to hide the groan building in my throat as I turned back to Calpurnia and saw her looking at me, arms crossed, like she had me entirely figured out.
“If you’re blocking the door,” I said coolly. “It’s going to delay our session.”
Calpurnia’s eyes narrowed, assessing me like she could see down to the bone. “I wouldn’t peg you as someone eager to engage in therapy.”
I respected the art of self-improvement, I just historically used the energy one normally shelled out to personal growth on building supporters for a coup.
But she didn’t need to know that any sooner than she physically pulled it out of me. “I am eager to sit down. I assume you have a couch?”
“I do,” Calpurnia said, stepping aside and offering me entry into her office. “Don’t think for a second I won’t be addressing your reliance on humor to avoid telling the truth later.”
Oh, Persy was going to pay for this. Beautiful little torturer.
Calpurnia’s office was … nice, I supposed.
Decorated with warm wood and comfortable furniture. Complete with soft, soothing art. I was also pretty sure I could hear the light lilt of piano filtering through the room. All carefully selected to make people feel comfortable and free to open up.
It had the opposite effect on me, my shoulders growing tense with the feeling that I’d just stepped into a cage.
I sat down on the plush, dark green couch, shifting and setting my legs wide in a casual stance. For good measure, I crossed my arms over my chest.
Calpurnia moved slowly, grabbing a file and pen off her desk before finally sitting down in a gray chair across from me. Crossing her legs and adjusting her glasses, she opened the file, scanning it quickly.
When she looked up, I had the distinct realization that she wasn’t letting me out of here without at least one honest answer.
“Well, good morning,” she began formally. “What would you prefer I call you? Sebastian or Lord Apollo?”
“Sebastian or Apollo is fine,” I grumbled. I didn’t love the formality of my official title, despite what others might assume. If someone was forced to guess, most would probably say I liked with the fame that came with being a god more than anyone.
The truth of that assumption was still up for debate.
Calpurnia smiled, tilting her head. “I like Sebastian. It’s a fine name.”
I let out a low grunt in return. I liked my name just fine, except for the fact that my father had picked it out.
As if Calpurnia could read my fucking thoughts, she settled back in her chair and said, “Tell me about your family.”
I breathed through my nose, trying to take measured breaths. I could already feel the anger and rage building. Better to keep it short lest I risk saying too much. “They’ve passed on.”
Calpurnia’s head tilted. “Who?” If she did that every time she didn’t like the way I answered her, we were going to have a problem.
“My parents.”
It was the truth, but she wasn’t satisfied. “Anyone else?”
It wasn’t a secret, but the thought that someone had told her made my hackles rise, fury and grief starting to twist my chest tight. “My sister.”
Calpurnia’s face remained passive, though I was pretty sure her hand twitched, like she wanted to get that pen working. “I thought you were an only child.”
I had to clench my jaw to prevent my teeth from grinding together. “Artemis.” I was certainly fucking not speaking her name in front of a woman who I didn’t trust. No matter how much instinct told me otherwise.
“You don’t consider Diana to be a sibling?” Calpurnia’s head tilted another inch towards her shoulder. I had half a mind to spill my life story just so she stopped doing that. It was the physical embodiment of a long, drawn out interesting.
“I do,” I admitted, just to stop another head tilt. It was of no matter I hadn’t spoken to Luce in any real capacity in years. Or that if pressed, I’d begrudgingly admit that I felt their absence.
Calpurnia pursed her lips, finally lifting that pen. Though not to write, to gesture towards me. “Then your family isn’t all dead.”
I forced myself to take a breath. “Creative.”
Calpurnia nodded once, like that had answered every question she had about my family. She barreled through the next topic like it wasn’t a topic most would skirt around from fear I’d try to kill them. “Why did you try to overthrow Adrian?”
I shifted down further on the couch, flexing my legs to try to restrain myself. “Because I could.”
Calpurnia took off her glasses, leaning forward, crossing her forearms over her knee. “Now, that I actually believe.”
“Really?” I said, raising one eyebrow. She wasn’t getting an ego boost from figuring me out so quickly, so I kept my response and face passive.
That didn’t deter Calpurnia from looking like she’d just won an award, a smug smile plastered on her face. “You’d be much angrier if you were passionate. I don’t even sense an ounce of investment in that plan.”
She could call me out for evading things all she wanted, but that didn’t mean I still wasn’t going to do it. “I can see why Persephone likes you.”
Calpurnia leaned forward even further, and I almost quipped that she should just move her chair if everything I said made her that interested. “What makes you call her that? I know she prefers Persy.”
“It’s her namesake.” And a reminder. A much needed reminder.
Calpurnia hummed, then said, “And you think by calling her that, it makes you Hades?”
Well, she thought she was just the most brilliant person to walk the planet, now didn’t she? “We already have a Hades and I don’t think she has any romantic interest in Persy. She’s married, after all.”
When I said it, guilt threatened to weasel its way through my stomach, sinking my heart like a stone. I shoved it away. I only had the capacity to feel empathetic towards one person at the moment, and that certainly was not the goddess of the Underworld.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Calpurnia said pointedly, tapping her pen against her clipboard twice.
I rolled my shoulders back, feeling an odd itch between my shoulder blades. “Why would I want to be Hades?”
That was fucking ridiculous. The Underworld was the opposite of everything I loved—was supposed to love.
Calpurnia, once again, wasn’t even remotely deterred by my tone. “It paints you as a villain. The Hades and Pluto lines have been historically feared.”
I laughed under my breath. “I don’t see a problem with that.”
Calpurnia’s eyebrow shot sky high. “You like to be a villain.”
It was my goal, really. “Better than the hero.”
“See, that.” Calpurnia snapped her fingers, lurching forward like she was a bear lunging for a fish in a gushing river. “I think that’s forced.” My jaw clenched down, hard. “Why don’t you like to be liked?”
“I think I’m plenty well-liked,” I gritted out. Though our lovely king and his little friends did a spectacular job of garnering love and attention from their patrons, there was something about Apollo that drew people in like a moth to the flame.
No one could deny the pull of the sun.
Whether or not I liked that attention was irrelevant.
“And you’d throw that away?” Calpurnia’s voice was edged with something close to doubt, like she was choosing a question she didn’t quite believe in. “You really thought that people would happily embrace you after you overthrew Adrian?”
“They’d accept a leader who didn’t throw their world to shit.” Those words, though sounding as natural as poetry on my tongue, still felt rehearsed to my own ears.
Calpurnia nodded, letting several seconds go by. “Persy told me that you were behind most of the unrest we’ve experienced with the gods over the past years. Particularly that string of articles exposing all of Lord Jupiter’s sins.”
I felt my mouth curve into a grin. “Your point being?”
“Quite a lot of effort for something you don’t care about.”
I breathed in carefully, forcing myself to respect the craftsmanship behind Calpurnia’s answer, rather than the defensive rage twisting my chest tight.
Apparently, Calpurnia was content to drop that statement without further explanation. Forcing me to sit with it without the opportunity to push it away from me with pretty words and careful charm.
“What does Persy have you doing?” she asked, finally leaning back in her chair. Fuck, this felt exhausting. It was much simpler pushing it down until I forgot about it.
“Reconnecting with my power,” I said, uncaring that my tone had a considerable bite to it.
Calpurnia smiled regardless, shaking her head. “Persy is very good at her job.”
“There was doubt she wasn’t?” I shot back, before I could consider whether that came across as hyper-protective or not.
She raised one eyebrow, a silent message that she was reading into that statement but was choosing to set it aside for now. “She’s young. She’s incredibly kind. People sometimes associate that with a lack of talent, unfortunately. But if that’s the solution she came up with when you were at a state more hostile than this, I might be out of a job.”
“I doubt she has any interest in therapy.” It was true, which in my mind, made it okay to say. You didn’t have to spend more than a few hours in Persy’s presence to know that she appreciated silence and doing. She wouldn’t like a career that relied this much on talking.
This time, Calpurnia decided to voice her thoughts. “You seem to know her quite well.”
I sighed, dragging my hands down my face. I at least knew when to accept defeat, and Calpurnia was not going to let this go. “In certain contexts, I can understand the way she functions. May relate to it. Despite our age difference.”
Calpurnia shot forward in her chair. “See, don’t do that. Don’t try to distance yourself by some poor attempt at aging yourself.”
I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m seven years older than her.” Sure, one might not be able to tell by looking at us side by side. Sure, we were both adults. But that felt important to remind myself. A deterrent. Or something
“How do you even know how old she is?” Calpurnia returned, that knowing eyebrow sky high.
My jaw clenched once, the muscle tightening. “I have a good memory.”
Calpurnia laughed under her breath. “While I do believe that, I don’t agree that your age difference would have any impact on your ability to get along. Especially since Persy is…” She broke off with a shake of her head. That only piqued my interest. “Excuse me, I almost spoke out of turn.” Piqued wasn’t the right word. Now I needed to know what she’d been about to say.
I never got the chance to press, because Calpurnia shook her wrist to bring her watch down her forearm and checked the time. “Well, that has to be enough for today.” Then, she looked to me. “Whether you like it or not, you will be here next week. And if I hear an inkling that you were unkind to Persy for setting this up, I won’t be as gracious letting you get away with those evasions you think work so well.”
Oh, this woman is good.
In a way that made me want to respect her and answer her questions.
Fuck.
I stood, smoothing my hands down over my pants and walking over to her to extend a hand. I wasn’t above using my height to intimidate. “You may be a unique case, Calpurnia. Most people let me get away with everything.”
A light knock sounded at the door, one that was so distinctly sweet and considerate it could belong to no one else but Persy.
Calpurnia took my hand, shaking it once. “She won’t,” she said, nodding her head towards the door.
An affirmative grunt was all she was getting in return, because I’d already figured that part out.
Bracing myself, I walked over to the door to find Persy on the other side of the hallway, leaning back against the fresh limestone, trying to wrestle a knife into a pomegranate.
For the love of Zeus, was she trying to hurt herself?
Without bothering with a hello, I walked over to her and yanked the pomegranate out of her hand.
“Hey!” she exclaimed, lunging for the fruit. I held it over my head. Like I said, I wasn’t above using my height to my advantage. Persy tried to reach for it, she really did. She got closer than most would, her own height giving her an advantage. Her height also gave her legs that burned themselves into the recesses of my mind, and placed her forehead at the exact height of my lips, but that was of no consequence. “Don’t break it,” she cried in a voice that immediately made my clothes feel too tight.
“I’m not going to maul it,” I said, my voice hard. Whether that was natural or a defensive reaction to the assumption I’d mutilate a beautiful product of nature, I would never know. I extended my hand, palm up. “Hand me the knife.”
Persy frowned down at my hand. “I’m not supposed to give you weapons.”
“It’s not a crossbow, love,” I said, wiggling my fingers. “Hand it over.”
Persy looked up at me, her eyebrows drawn as she debated whether or not to violate the order she’d been given. From her dickhead brother, obviously.
“Go on,” I coaxed.
Persy placed the knife in my hand carefully, as if to avoid brushing her skin with mine. Intentional or not, it was smart. Necessary.
Once her hand was out of proximity, I closed my fingers around the knife and brought it to the pomegranate. In two quick swipes and a pointed wedge, I popped a fourth of it out, the seeds still perfectly intact. “Here,” I said gruffly.
“Thank you.” This time, those words elicited a neutral reaction. Maybe even a positive one.
Before Persy could ask, which she surely would, I said, “Calpurnia is quite the treat.”
Persy’s mouth broke with a smile so blinding and beautiful it could eclipse the sun. “Isn’t she lovely?”
“That is not the word I’d use.” Persy’s smile dimmed ever so slightly. “But lovely is appropriate as well. I suppose.”
My chest released when her smile inched back up, her eyes returning to their bright glow. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
I nodded, if not to keep myself from returning a quip that risked dimming her smile again.
I looked around the halls, only to find people passing us with a wide berth, but clearly interested. Their eyes were curious, though, which could have either been a desire to ask Persy for something or one to spy on me and my progress. “How long do you think it will take everyone to get used to seeing me here?” I asked, as one younger-looking man actually scurried away from me like his tail was on fire.
Persy must have noticed the same, because she let out a small laugh as the pitter patter of his feet sounded down the hallway. “I imagine soon. Though I doubt it’s what you think it is.”
My gaze swung back to her to find her already looking up at me. Well, that did something odd to my chest. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t think they’re scared of you. It’s probably more that you’re—” Persy cut herself off, her eyes blowing wide as she realized she’d spoken without thinking.
Oh, she was not getting out of this one. “That I’m what, love?” I asked, hoping the endearment would pry the information out of her.
Persy breathed in, her chest rising. I did not notice what that movement did to her breasts. Certainly didn’t notice how they pressed against the line of her shirt. After another steadying breath, Persy said, “I think they are more interested in the way you look than why you’re here.”
“What is the way I look?” She wasn’t getting out of this without some variation of the word attractive falling from her lips.
Persy’s eyes narrowed at the challenge. A truly disturbing level of pride swelled in my chest at that expression. “You know how you look.”
I tsked, stepping closer to her. “I don’t have a mirror at the moment. Why don’t you enlighten me?”
Persy’s head tilted back to keep eye contact, and my hand itched with the urge to brace the back of her skull. Her eyes flitted over my face, like she was deciding which word to describe my features. “You’re quite handsome.”
Well. I didn’t expect that to hit me like a shot to the chest. “Is that you saying you think I’m handsome?” I asked, not knowing which answer I thought was worse.
Persy opened her mouth to respond, her eyes glowing in a way I’d learned meant she was about to respond without thinking when someone signed their death sentence by interrupting us.
“There you are!” A prickly voice called from down the hall. Maybe it wasn’t objectively all that annoying, but it registered like clanging bells in my ears.
I ripped my eyes away from Persy’s to find Nikolas jogging down the hallway, seemingly hellbent on ruining my day in all his former sea-god glory.
“What,” Persy started, then cleared her throat. “What is it, Niky?”
I fought a disgusted groan in the back of my throat.
Nikolas’s gaze bounced back and forth between us, the unnatural sea-blue in his eyes sparkling when he focused in on the space between us. Or the lack of space, rather. I practically had Persy backed into the wall.
I wasn’t sure how much power he still had, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if one of the fountains started spouting water in my direction, he looked so mad. It was either jealousy or protectiveness, both of which made me want to break his teeth in so he couldn’t even speak.
“A few people came by your office asking for you,” Nikolas finally said, dragging his eyes to Persy. “Seemed urgent.”
Persy smiled, even though there was a tinge of frustration behind it. “Was it urgent?”
Nikolas shook his head. “No, which is why I told them to try to figure it out themselves then come back if they hit a wall.” Well, maybe he did have a brain on him after all. “I left the office to get away from them and look for you. It’s almost lunch.”
So he was in her office, huh? And they had lunch plans? Nevermind, he was dumb as a bag of rocks.
Persy blinked a few times, like she was trying to recall what plans they had. After a moment she rose up on her toes then back down. “Right! Sorry!”
Nikolas smiled, looking relieved. “Thank you. It’s just that I—” He broke off with a doubtful look in my direction.
Whatever. It didn’t matter whether or not we had been friends in the past. He didn’t trust me and I wanted to punch him in the stomach.
Persy waved her hand in front of her. “No, no, I promised. We’ll go.”
Nikolas breathed out, the sigh dropping his shoulders a full inch. I shoved down the curiosity prickling at the back of my mind. I had zero, zero interest in whatever that was.
Persy turned to me, an apology already brewing in the clouds in her eyes. As if I could read her mind, I could tell she was sorry for not inviting me to wherever they were going.
Oh, I had no desire to watch them interact any more than I already had. That was fine, I had plenty to do. “You go,” I said, speaking solely to Persy. “I have a list to compile for you.”
“You remembered,” Persy said, soft with a touch of wonder in her tone.
“I did,” Now I was really making that fucking list, I didn’t care how many family members were on it. “You’ll have it by dinner.” Followed by literal dinner, but that went without saying.
“I’ll be back by then,” she said, and because I was a fucking horrible person, I imagined she sounded excited about those plans. She shot an unsure glance towards her boyfriend—who, in my humble opinion, was meeting a terrible fate quite soon—before turning back to me. “Do you know your way back home?”
Home. I was invading her home and yet I couldn’t find a bone in my body that was sorry for it. There was too much warmth there to ignore. “I do,” I said, louder than necessary to make sure that Nikolas heard it.
And heard it, he did. When I turned to look at him, he was glaring at me.
Good.
Even if there was a large chance that glare was a result of the role I played in him betraying Daphne and Lukas, that was of no consequence. I preferred to imagine he was pissed I was living with Persy.
That way, I didn’t need to apologize for any of my past actions either.
Persy didn’t make any move to walk away from me, forcing me to be the one to step away.
With my newfound freedom for the rest of the day, I had time to head to the market and browse the stands for inspiration for dinner. Then even more time to lock myself in the studio and try to finish the landscape Persy had requested.
It also conveniently allowed me to walk past Nikolas.
I sought out Persy’s eyes quickly, her head tipping back to meet mine as if I’d placed my hand on her chin and lifted her head myself. “Enjoy,” I said, my voice a rougher scrape than I’d intended.
Persy’s lips turned up into a close-lipped smile as she nodded quickly. Whether it was the reflection of the limestone off the walls or not, her cheeks were a deeper pink than normal.
Before I convinced myself I was the cause of that blush and did something that would send her brother running after me with a lightning bolt in hand, I decided it was best to excuse myself.
With one final glance up and down my captor’s form, I turned down the hallway, walking towards Nikolas.
To his credit, he stood his ground on confident legs. When I went to walk past him, his hand shot out and caught my shoulder, forcing me to acknowledge him.
“I don’t think I need to tell you that the entire Mediterranean, with me at the helm, will be after you if you touch a single hair on her head,” he whipped out, threat clear in his voice.
Well, dammit, I hadn’t planned for him to make me respect him, former friendship or not.
“And who are you to protect her?” I shot back, baiting him to answer.
He opened his mouth, a retort and answer combined ready to snap back at me, before Persy stopped us both in our tracks. “Nikolas, please.”
Oh, there was no stopping the smile on my face. Before Persy could ruin it with an equally chastising comment in my direction, I turned towards her. “See you later, love,” I called, before taking off down the hall on quick legs, restraining a laugh in my throat.
By the time I turned the corner, I could hear low whispers that surely belonged to Persy and Nikolas, but decided to be kind and forgo eavesdropping.
?
Unfortunately, that good deed only lasted me so long. Clearly, everyone in Prometheus had grown comfortable enough with my presence in a manner of days to gather up the courage to speak to me.
It started with a few innocent hellos and how are yous from shop vendors, gently inquiring into my day. Those conversations were as easy to manage as the most simple of charcoal drawings, the charm and smooth small talk rolling off my tongue and earning bashful smiles.
It was when people got bold that I had to remind myself that if I was rude to any one of these people, Persy would personally light me on fire and would likely do so by smiling so brightly that her joy would morph into a lightning bolt and hit me in the chest.
Joining the scar already there.
“You know I really am a fan of yours,” one particularly confident vendor said, one who sold squash that was unfortunately necessary for me to purchase.
I smiled easily, weighing two different squash in my hands. “Generally or for a specific reason?”
“Oh, well, I—” they said, stumbling slightly over their words. I simply waited as they collected themselves. “I’m a huge fan of art. I could spend hours in the Apollo gallery just in your section. Your piece Sunlight Incarnate is one of my favorites. I mean the detail is just amazing. You have to tell me—is it a woman or not?”
I breathed in slowly, pulling my eyes away from the squash in my hands. That answer was thoughtful, and happened to point out one of the only paintings that haunted me years after I’d put brush to canvas. “Thank you. I am proud of that one.”
The way they reacted to the inch of kindness in my voice, even though I’d evaded their question, felt like a shot to the chest. They looked like I’d just cured every ounce of pain they’d ever felt.
“Oh, you should be!” They exclaimed, bouncing back on their heels and smoothing their hands down their burnt orange apron.
The ounce of kindness I felt towards this stranger dimmed considerably when they fought me tooth and nail about paying for the produce. Eventually, they caved and let me pay, but not without a fight that made me feel exhausted.
Enough so that I decided I’d make do with whatever Persy still had stocked just to get the fuck out of there. My millionth poor decision of the day came when my eyes caught on a wash of color on my way out of the main marketplace.
I should have continued on my merry way, working my way out of the towering, lush gardens that made up the main square, decorated with a mass of bright flowers that somehow thrived in the dim light Prometheus was subject to.
But no, no I just had to stop at a stand that displayed enough colors of oil paint it looked like they’d robbed the rainbow right of out of Iris’s hands.
Mistake number one was not turning around when the young man—no more than eighteen—almost fainted when he saw me. Once he recovered, he busied himself with jumping up and down on his feet excitedly, almost shaking himself out of his bright clothes, somehow both perfectly fitting his personality yet contrasting the dark tone of his hair and sharp features. “Oh, fuck, you’re Lord Apollo,” he practically screamed.
“Sebastian, please,” I said, half intending the plea to address the volume of his tone as well. I ran my hand over a few tubes of paint, a mix of brands that were owned by humans.
“What can I help you with?” There we go, that was a normal tone.
I scanned the paint and supplies, looking for a few specific purples and yellows that I needed for an image that was scraping against the back of my brain, begging to be let out. “Purple with a cooler undertone that pulls gray when mixed with white. Neutral yellow. Not too golden, not too bright.”
Within seconds, I had two tubes of paint in my hands. Perfect matches for what I described. My head snapped up to the young man. “You have quite the eye for color.”
His complexion colored, his hand running nervously over his shaved, dark brown hair. “I don’t really know how to explain it, I just understand it.”
“Understood,” I said. “Good skill. You should be proud.”
“You know, Persy said the same thing to me. She was the one that suggested I try my hand at art. It helps me manage how chaotic my head can feel.” There was such wonder in his tone, every ounce of it deserved.
“I assume she was right?” I said, engaging even though I said I wouldn’t.
The young man nodded his head quickly. “Very much so.”
“You paint?” There were many other mediums, but with his love of color, I imagined it would be his preferred.
“Watercolor mostly.” He looked so happy I’d asked him a question, no matter how short, I briefly understood why Persy found value in being nice.
I nodded, humming in the back of my throat as I reached down for a detail brush I’d need to appropriately capture the little white lines that cut across storm clouds.
“I really want to get into some other mediums, but it’s hard to learn. Persy is asking a friend she has if I can apprentice for him when I leave Prometheus, and she swears he’s nice but I—”
“I’ll do it.” Sweet love of Apollo. There must be something in the water here.
But there was no going back now, not with the unbridled joy spreading across this kid’s face. The realization of his age made me pull back, wondering how someone who couldn’t be more than eighteen had ended up here.
I didn’t get the chance to inquire about it, because he was literally jumping up and down with happiness. “Really?”
I tried to hide the fact that I was grinding my molars together. “Yes,” I said slowly.
“For the love of Zeus, I feel like I’m going to pass out,” he said, fanning himself. Okay, so he was Greek. He gripped the edge of the display, the whites of his knuckles showing. “No, wait—”
“Let’s just take a breath.” The last thing I needed was to have to heal this kid. “How about we start with your name?”
He listened, taking in a deep breath. “Penn.”
The brush broke in my hand in a sharp snap. Penn looked down at my hand in shock, scrambling over the lip of his stand to grab me another one, like he’d done something wrong to me. “Just wait,” I said, holding out a hand. “Let’s hold on.”
Penn straightened, looking all too chastised. Dammit.
“How about this,” I said carefully. It wasn’t his fault that his name reminded me of someone or if that reminder made the dim sun in Prometheus surge with light. “Where do normally paint?”
“There’s a studio. Has everything we need,” Penn said, a clear note of affection in his voice. One obviously dedicated towards my live-in menace.
I nodded once, a small dip of my chin. “Alright. You fine meeting there tomorrow?”
Penn’s excitement was back, looking like he was seconds away from morphing into a rainbow. “I could do around three in the afternoon,” he said, voice vibrating with excitement.
That was fine. I’d just have to make something for dinner that didn’t take too long. No more soups that needed hours to simmer or meat that needed time to roast, but that was fine. I could handle that.
“Done,” I said, reaching into my pocket. “And if you even remotely try to stop me from paying, I’m canceling.”
Penn’s mouth closed. “Thank you,” he said forcefully when I handed over coin. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”
My chin dipped once in agreement. Anymore talking and I was liable to cancel the whole thing. I didn’t need this kid thinking I was a hero.
When Penn looked calm enough, I turned, leaving him to stew in his excitement, almost as bright as the shirt he was wearing. The entire walk back to the house, I didn’t even register anything about my surroundings other than the utter dread rolling through my chest.
Not at the prospect of helping Penn. No, no.
The truth of the matter was worse, because I”d be an idiot if I denied the fact that pleasant excitement was rolling through my chest.